


Closet Chronicles

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Another Chance at the Brass Ring, or Season 9 Fan Fiction [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Being a Prophet Sucks, Big Secrets, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Children of Eve Tablet, Demons, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Gen, Het, M/M, Mild Language, Monster mash, Murder Most Foul, One Step Behind, Revelation is a Bitch, Samodge, Slash, Transformation by Fire, Trick of the Light, Warzone, Witches, You Can't Win Them All
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters try to understand the forces skirmishing around the globe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chronicles that No One Ever Read

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** : Through episode 08x20 Pac-Man Fever

Castiel's irritability skyrocketed, so Dodge and Kevin avoided him whenever possible. However, Kevin could only hold off asking his questions for so long, and the angel was the only one with answers. 

"Cas," he approached gently, "do you know why?"

"Dean said he needed to check on Benny – "

"No, I mean, why Dodge and I shared a vision. I mean, that's not what I do. I don't have visions. Right?"

The angel considered for a moment. "The Prophet Chuck had visions. It is possible that your prophetic powers are increasing to include foretelling future events, but I find that unlikely."

Kevin was relieved. The vision itself had been incredibly unpleasant, and he couldn't actually recount what he had seen or heard. It was more like a seizure than a premonition. 

"Unlikely?" Dodge asked.

"Heaven chose you to receive Revelation, most likely because the burden would overwhelm the Prophet's ability to read the Word," Cas replied bluntly.

"Something wrong?" Dodge asked the angel.

"Dean told me they'd be home an hour ago," the angel fumed.

Dodge tried to comfort him, "Traffic. I warned Sam to make sure they only went the speed limit. If they get a ticket, that can put people onto their tracks."

The door of the bunker opened. 

"Kev! Cas!" Dean called. "Special delivery!"

Sam and Dean slogged into the war room with their duffels over their shoulders. 

"Let me get that," Dodge said to Sam.

"No, it's okay – "

"Sam, I'm staying here, I'm being useful," Dodge said through gritted teeth. Sam relinquished his bag. 

"Kev," Dean said, handing off a package wrapped in towels. "Careful, it's heavy."

Kevin already knew what it was before he uncovered it. He slipped the covering off quickly to reveal a marked piece of rock slab.

"Is that another tablet?" Cas asked.

"Benny retrieved it," Dean said. 

"Benny? The vampire?" Kevin asked. "How?"

Dean shrugged. "I didn't ask. And he cracked it open somewhere in Canada. Apparently, Hell reigned down on him since. So he wasn't interested in chatting."

"Do you know when he opened it?" Castiel asked. 

"Few days ago," Sam cut in. 

"I would guess it was around the time Dodge and Kevin shared a vision," Castiel said. "Instead of earthquakes and lightning storms, the powers of Heaven sent about a warning of a more direct kind."

"Does that mean people know about Dodge? Or where Kevin is?" Sam asked. 

Cas shook his head. "I imagine if either of those things were true, we would know."

A phone rang. 

Sam dug around in his pockets and pulled a phone out. "Must be one of Garth's contacts," he said. He answered it, "Hello?"

Dean's phone rang.

"Is this a bad sign?" Kevin asked.

"No, we made some calls. After what happened in Delaware, we put out some feelers. Hold on – "

Dean flipped open his phone. "Yeah?"


	2. Battlefield

Sam Winchester set up complex case boards all the time, but Dakota 'Dodge' Gage's craft put his to shame. She and Kevin spent the better part of the night collecting information from e-mails or scribbled notes and laying it out. 

The war room appeared to be, well, an actual room for generals in a war. World maps were pinned up on corkboards with tacks and string to indicate local cases, omens, unusual events, and even weather patterns.

"Holy crap," Sam remarked at the sight of it. 

Kevin didn't respond; his eyes were fixated on the large world map.

"Kev?" Sam asked.

When silence persisted for several minutes, Dodge spoke up. "This doesn't include any information from any of my contacts or resources," she said. "It's from two guys, uh, Charlie and Garth? They sent over bits and pieces. Charlie must be good, because he sent over omens and weather patterns world wide – "

"Charlie is a she," Sam interrupted. "And, yeah, she's great."

"I'm almost afraid to start using my contacts," Dodge admitted. "Whatever's happening, Sam, it's a global phenomenon."

She pointed to the green tacks. "You remember that case out on the West coast?" she asked.

"Those porcupine warriors, uh, Eer-moonan, right," Sam replied. It was seven a.m. and way too early to discuss crap like this. 

"This same pattern can be found all over the world," Dodge said. "We're not talking a dozen people dead. We're talking hundreds, maybe even thousands."

Sam swallowed hard. "No. That would mean there would be hundreds of new Eer-moonan, too, which – "

Kevin cut him off. "Makes sense. They're building an army."

He clutched the newest Tablet to his chest. Sam broached the question, "Have you read any of it yet?"

"I know it's the Children of Eve Tablet," Kevin replied. "And there's a note at the bottom, like on the Demon Tablet. But it's not a goodbye note. It's like an addendum, I guess."

"You make any sense out of it?"

"Just that the first-fallen demons, like Paimon and Abbadon, harbored a secret. When Eve unearthed the truth, sent Purgatory, where she could tell no one about it," Kevin said, almost deadpan.

"That sounds important," Sam stated the obvious. "Did Metatron write down what this secret was?"

"I haven't read it yet," Kevin replied. "I have to read the tablet first. Otherwise it won't make sense."

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry," Sam said. "You need anything?"

"No, thanks."

Dodge motioned to Sam to join her in the kitchen. 

"What's up?"

She never bought into stereotypes, but sometimes Sam's insight into his fellow man was astoundingly stunted in terms of emotion. 

"Sam, he's not doing well," she replied. "He read that part of the tablet at midnight, and he hasn't looked at the thing since. He helped me out to distract himself from it."

"What are you saying?" 

"I'm saying whatever he read on that big rock scared the crap out of him on a whole new level," she replied. 

"You have any ideas?" Sam asked. "On how to help him through all this?"

She shook her head. "Maybe he needs to get out of here for a little while. Being locked down in a secret bunker with an angel and an FBI Agent isn't helping."

"He's not protected out there."

"What good is protecting him here if he implodes?" 

Sam vividly recalled the last time Kevin Tran imploded. They couldn't let that happen again.

 

Dean stretched out across the bed, bumping his head into Castiel's. 

"Sorry," he said. 

"We need to get up," the angel replied.

Dean glanced over at the clock. It was eight in the morning. What the hell?

"Garth's contacts have sent substantial information," Castiel stated baldly. "And we need to check into it immediately."

"Cas, we've had this conversation before," Dean said. He waited a few moments for the confused expression on the angel's face to form. "Pillow talk topics. This isn't one of them."

The angel nodded and sat up straight. "All the more reason we should be out of bed."

"Cas, really, this isn't the end of the world. We can take another hour – "

"How do you know?" 

"What?"

"That this isn't the end of the world?"

Dean blinked slowly. "Because we've done the end of the world plenty of times already. This is just evil trying to figure itself out."

Cas stood completely upright. "You told me that you and Sam were held captive in a motel with several deities and demigods, including Odin and Ganesh."

"And Gabriel's old flame, Kali," Dean said, a smile forming on his lips. 

"You saw Lucifer lay them to waste," Cas remarked. 

Dean nodded. "So what?"

"That was evil figuring itself out," he replied. "That was Lucifer consolidating power. Had he not decimated them, they may have been able to marshal a force to help you and Gabriel kill him."

That got Dean's attention. He sat up. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"Lucifer is intelligent and powerful," Cas replied. "He does not waste his time or energy; he could very easily have sent legions of demons to slaughter the deities there. Instead he presented a show of force: a dozen ancient deities mean nothing to an archangel. No one else dared rise against him after that."

"Except us," Dean said. 

Cas smiled. "We had no choice."

"Damnit, now I'm awake."

 

Dean and Castiel came down into the war room as Sam dragged a bag to his shoulder. 

"Where're you going?" Dean asked.

"Dallas."

"Texas?" 

"No, in Canada. Yes, Texas," Sam replied.

"Okay, give me like ten minutes – " Dean began.

"No, Dodge and I are going."

"You and Dodge? Are going on a case? Together? Because last time that didn't work out so good," Dean pointed out.

"Last time we went to check a safe house. This time we're checking out a case," Sam replied. 

"And I'm not going with you?" Dean asked.

"No," Dodge replied. "You're not." She had her own bag over her shoulder. She was also wearing her holster and gun. Dean had to admit, it was kind of hot.

"Why not?" 

"Because my partner, Agent Acevedo, picked up a case involving occult-related deaths," she replied. "And you guys have been wanted by the FBI on and off for about, what, a decade now?"

"But you're taking Sam?" Castiel inquired. 

"He refused to let me check it out on my own," she replied. "We'll call if we need help."

They hauled ass out of the bunker.

Dean turned to his angel. "Did that just happen? Or is this some kind of weird dream?"

"Actually," Kevin said, "it's about time."

"Are you all right?" Cas asked the Prophet.

"I just – need to be alone," he confessed. "To read this Tablet. I can't explain it."

"Very well," Cas said. "Dean, you said you could be ready in ten minutes?"

"Uh, Cas – "

"We need answers, and there is someone we should speak with."

"You wanna leave Kev here alone? Without anyone – "

"I'm right here," Kevin interrupted. "And I'll still be in the bunker, okay? I promise."

"Okay, but, I'm calling to check in with you, and you better pick up," Dean said.

 

Sam capped the gas tank and waited for the pump to print his receipt. Dodge climbed into the driver's seat of Sam's pickup before he could protest. 

"You wanna drive?" he asked. 

"I haven't driven a car in over a month," she replied.

"Because of your visions," Sam pointed out. "You can't really control them."

"I can pull over."

"You sure?"

"Don't you trust me?"

Sam smiled. "I do. And I wouldn't mind riding shotgun the rest of the way."

The next few minutes in the car were uncomfortable and quiet. He knew Dodge wasn't doing well cooped up at the bunker, but he thought she'd feel better when they were on the road. Clearly he was wrong; something else was bothering her.

"This case," he said, "you printed files, right? Can I take a peek?"

"Uh, yeah," she said, her voice lighter than before, "in my carry case, there."

Sam leafed through the pages. "Woah," he said as he saw the autopsy photos. 

"You can say that again," Dodge replied. 

"Your partner is working this case?" 

"Yeah, right now the FBI is treating it like a serial case," she said. "They've held back details like the altars they've found, and the strange books they've recovered."

"She mention anything else?" Sam asked. 

"Just that she found, and I quote, 'a bag of horror' at one of the scenes."

"A hex bag," Sam whispered. "Does your partner know anything about any of this?"

"Not really. And we need to keep it that way," Dodge replied. "I can't let anything happen to her, Sam. She's saved my life half a dozen times, and if she's reeled into this world because of me... I can't let her die."

"So we solve the case for her," Sam said.

 

 **Knolls, Utah**. Dean dropped onto the motel bed like a rock; Cas insisted on getting away from the bunker. Dean insisted on driving instead of teleporting. 

Bickering with Sam could be ended by turning up the music. Castiel did not buy into this tactic and continued to argue with the hunter for the entire drive. 

"We need to ensure our activities aren't limited to Kansas," Cas said. "Lucifer has been nearby once before. I don't know why, but if he's still in the area, we need to draw him away. Make him think there is no permanent home."

Dean bit his lip. "Abaddon knew about it. The Men of Letters. The Bunker."

"She's dead."

"No, she's not. I mean, she should be locked in Hell, but then again, so should Lucifer and Paimon and God knows how many other demons – "

"No, she's dead," Castiel repeated. "Metatron smote her."

"Sorry? We're talking about the same Metatron, right? Archangel who defends himself primarily with a shotgun?" 

"Only from mortals," Cas replied. "He is an archangel. He can smite demons like Abaddon."

Dean grimaced. "He told Sam and I he couldn't. He wasn't a warrior. He just had nice handwriting."

Cas nodded sagely. "If she were attacking him, Metatron's only true defense would be to flee. But as you confined her powers, chopped her into bits, and buried those parts of her in concrete, he didn't need to defend himself. He just touched the concrete and annihilated her."

Questions irked Dean. Cas could have mentioned this to him ages ago, before Sam closed the Gates of Hell. Clearly he had been on board with the plan.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean asked.

"I only learned of it last week, and other more pressing matters were at hand," Cas replied.

"You spoke with Metatron last week?"

The angel became cagey. "No," he confessed. "I spoke with Nathaniel."

"Ah, good old Nate," Dean said. "How is he?"

Unlike the other angels Dean had met, Nathaniel seemed like a solid guy. He had, after all, aided the Winchesters when Naomi and her posse were torturing Castiel and hunting Metatron.

"Devastated," Cas said. "Lucifer is trying to gather the angels hiding from Heaven. Nathaniel is among them."

"He's after the Grace, isn't he?" 

"I believe so."

"Then what the hell are we doing out here in B.F.E. Utah where Satan can find you Cas?"

"Kuravi," the angel replied. "We're going to summon her."

"Uh, why?"

"Because monsters and demons are martialing their forces, Purgatory and Hell, Dean. We need to know what she knows."

"Well, we do have that list," Dean said. "The list of names I received in nightmare-o-grams. Benny told me he didn't send those."

"I thought you looked into those already?"

"Sam and I got side tracked by those hellhounds-on-crack and their fun counterparts. We never really got a chance."

Castiel tilted his head. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"It didn't – I mean, we got distracted, Cas. I forgot about it till like a minute ago," Dean replied. This was true, but he still felt viciously guilty about it. 

"After you've slept, we'll speak with Kuravi," the angel said. "Then we'll start on your list."

Dean nodded. "You coming to bed or what?"


	3. Journeyed Deep

**Dallas, Texas**. Sam followed Dodge down the hallway of a moderately nice hotel. 

"Yeah, thanks, Marie. Room 311. I'll check in later," she said before she hung up. Then she slipped a card from under the door of Room 311. 

"Marie told me she checked the hex bag out of evidence and left it in her room," Dodge explained as she popped open the door.

 

 **Knolls, Utah.** Castiel dragged Dean into some kind of closed-in area encircled by trees. 

"Do we need to be out here with so much nature?" Dean asked.

"This is a natural energy nexus. It affords us a measure of protection."

Before Dean could protest the clear presence of ticks and flies, Cas summoned the First Phoenix.

 

 **Dallas, Texas**. The forensics lab had separated the contents of the hex bag into little plastic containers with labels. Dodge laid it out in front of Sam.

"Charred metacarpal bone of an infant," Sam observed without reading the label. "Gold thread – "

"Gold?" 

"Uh, an extinct herb. Meadowsweet. And – huh," Sam stared at the other cups. "The rest of this stuff is pretty run of the mill, except these three coins."

"Old," she said. "Marie told me as much."

"Ancient Celtic. Ancient Sumerian, maybe Akkadian. And Roman Cyrillic, fifteenth century."

"Did you take a class in coins?" she asked. "Or do you just collect them?"

Sam shook his head. "This is bad, Dodge. This is hardcore hex-work to the umpteenth degree. This Celtic coin? I've seen something like it before when a six-hundred year old witch attempted to raise Sam Hayes, a demon – "

"Origin of Halloween," Dodge cut him off. "I was in that bunker for a long time with nothing else to do but read, Sam. I can recite half the books on Latin in there."

Dodge could read Latin? For some reason Sam found her immediately more attractive. 

"Right, sorry. Dean never remembers anything. Anyway, the witch who made this bag is combining eight kinds of witchcraft, Pagan lore, and from what I can see, even tapping into ancient deities for power. I mean, that's my best guess."

"So, besides 'bad', what else do you have?" she asked with a bit of an edge in her voice.

"Are there more pictures from the crime scenes I can look at?" Sam asked. "It will give me a better idea of what's going on."

 

 **Knolls, Utah.** Kuravi appeared with fire spitting up to the sky. The word 'displeased' didn't quite cover her expression.

"What?" she jabbed by way of greeting.

"Benny Lafitte just uncovered another Word of God," Cas spoke stiffly. "I gather you had something to do with it."

Kuravi's eyes lit up. Dean thought it might be a sign of anger, but her voice remained level, even. "Yes," she replied. "Benny wishes to become human again. He's embarking on transformation by fire."

"What?" Dean asked. "I saw you 'heal' four vampires a few days ago, turn them back into humans. It took all of three seconds."

"They are human, but their souls still carry the weight of their acts as vampires. When they die, they will be judged as such," Kuravi explained. "A transformation by fire allows Benny's soul to be purged. To start again as human."

"What the hell does that have to do with the tablet?" Dean asked. 

"I imagine there are several tasks Benny must complete," Cas said bluntly. 

Kuravi nodded. "One of them is quest in the name of a cause. One that doesn't serve him."

"You knew where it was buried?" Castiel asked. 

"I had some ideas where to look," she said evasively. "I thought you'd find it helpful."

"What do you know?" Castiel demanded. "About the skirmishes breaking out all over the world?"

When she didn't reply right away, Dean snapped. "You're a pacifist, fine. But that's not the same thing as being blind."

"I know that Lucifer's progress is being held in check by a force greater than his own," Kuravi said. "A force he never thought he'd have to face."

Cas spoke, "It's not Heaven."

"Purgatory has its own interests," she said. "Chatter and portents suggest that a powerful leader is getting cooperation, building an army."

"An army of Eer-moonan?" Dean asked. 

"I haven't heard that name in a very long time," Kuravi said quietly. "But I imagine, yes, they would be among the ranks."

"Among the ranks?" Castiel caught her tone. "What else is 'among the ranks'?"

The First Phoenix hesitated. "Pretty much everything, as far as I can tell," she said. "Even humans."

"Cut the cryptic crap," Dean said. "Who's their leader?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be in hiding," Kuravi snapped back. "The last time I saw the forces of Purgatory cooperate with humanity was when Eve walked the Earth. And now Leviathan are alive again – "

Castiel bowed his head in shame. 

" – it could easily be her. Or one of them."

 

 **Dallas, Texas**. The photographs captured a fair amount of horror. Half a dozen crime scenes in four states, each was the product of a powerful assault on multiple witches simultaneously. 

"Well?" Dodge asked again. Like clockwork she asked every four minutes. 

"How many bodies were found at the local crime scene?" Sam asked.

"Five."

"Whoever's doing this is going after covens," Sam replied quickly. "I think this is like the case we just broke in Delaware. Witches from one faction going after another."

"Which means what?" she asked, her voice sharper than nails.

"Dodge, what's up?"

"This case."

"That's not what I mean. You're not really yourself."

"Let's be honest, Sam," she said bluntly, "you've only known me for a few months. You don't know what I'm 'really' like."

"For the past months I've known you, you've had more tact and patience," Sam replied as calmly as possible. "But in the past few days – "

"I know," she cut him off. "Sam, I'm a field agent. When I applied for medical leave due to an unknown neurological condition, it – it was like locking away most of my personality. And that was fine when I was having visions all the time and was too debilitated to notice but that's not happening anymore."

"I understand that," Sam said. "I did my research. I saw the work you did, how much of yourself you put into the job. I meant what I said, that we'd figure it out, stop the visions from hurting you, or maybe stop the visions all together."

"I don't think you do understand," she said. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me. Or us." 

Those last two words felt like stabs to the stomach slicing up to his throat. Sam swallowed hard; all the passion and affection and friendship that blossomed between them in the past few weeks, was she trying to say that only happened because she couldn't work? That it would evaporate once she returned to the FBI? 

Before he could articulate his thoughts, Dodge continued, "I don't want you to get the idea that I'm like Kevin. At that bunker reading and translating. That's not me. I should be working this case with Acevedo, not sulking in the shadows trying to figure it out before she gets killed. Visions or not, that's the truth, Sam."

 

 **Knolls, Utah.** Disbelief filled the enclosure. Kuravi sidestepped questions like a sidewinding snake in the sands.

"A Leviathan?" Dean asked. "Working with other monsters?"

"The Children of Eve," Kuravi corrected. 

"Nice try, but the last time the Levis tried to take over the world, they didn't play nice with others," Dean said. 

"Things change," she said quietly. "I've already done too much."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked. Dean was surprised at the level of honest curiosity in his voice.

"I am not a spy or a warrior," she said. "I am a healer. I am a Phoenix. I don't participate in wars, especially not supernatural ones, except to repair and to save."

"What exactly have you done so far?" Dean asked.

"The Tablet," she said. "It has been lost for a very long time. I helped retrieve it and handed it over to you. That is as good as picking a side."

"That doesn't count," Dean protested. "You've risked nothing – "

"I've risked everything," Kuravi replied. "It is not in my nature to sympathize with a cause. My only hope is that your cause remains free will and not vengeance." 

Fire and ash – she was gone.

 

 **Dallas, Texas**. Tension piled up in the hotel room. 

"Right," Sam replied automatically. If he let himself spiral down the relationship road, he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle it. Goodbye was one thing; complete rejection was another. He decided to take the route of honesty. "Let's focus on this case now, and we can pick up this – the rest of what you said later."

Dodge saw her words had hit hard, and she hadn't meant them to. But she didn't know how to fix it, and given Sam an introductory course to her normal personality didn't seem plausible at the moment. Maybe he was right, they needed to stay on point. 

"Okay," she agreed. "You think witches are targeting covens from an opposing faction?"

"That's what the evidence says."

"Do we have bodies from both sides, or is one side executing members of the other?" 

Sam hadn't expected that question, but he quickly searched through the photographs to confirm. "The latter. Witches that gain their power through demonic forces have been killing off witches who draw on magic from Pagan deities and the like. That would explain why the hex bag contained so many coins from different traditions."

"You mean Akkadian, Celtic, and Roman – what was it?"

"Roman Cyrillic," Sam said. "The Celtic coin and Akkadian coin are both from a demonic tradition, they draw power from Hell. The Cyrillic coin and meadowsweet, they're usually used to call on the powers from demigods or deities... but here they're used as a shield. It's possible that the dead witches were powerless when they were slaughtered."


	4. Many Followed his Command

Sam put the pen down as Dean finished the list of names he collected from his nightmare-o-grams. He spoke into his phone, "Are you sure that's all?" 

"Isn't that enough?" Dean asked. "Look, we dropped the ball on this back in October or whatever, and we need to figure it out – "

"Dodge and I are onto something," Sam cut him off. "Let me call you back, okay?"

Dodge stared over his shoulder at the list of names: Andrew Hickles, Brian Quincy McKenney, Rasheem Paquette, Keira Douglass, Stella Hermann, Jason Reeve-Breaux, Catherine Yarborough, Abby Geer, Allison Dixon, Frederick Rosenbaum, Sable Cuellar, Hayley Hickman, Vanessa Gossett, Sierra Hatcher, Spencer Bergman, Nicholas Hammonds, Robert Cassidy, Richard O'Malley, Zachary Schulz, Riley Mandel, Honor Craddock.

"Twenty-one," she said.

"Andrew Hickles died back in September," Sam said. "He, uh, tried to kill Dean."

"Okay, that's still twenty names," she said. 

"Yeah, and we might get lucky," Sam said. "Your partner's files list eighteen victims. I recognized three names from this list. Even if all the vics were from this same list, we can mix and match, should be able to figure out which two are still alive, possibly get ahead of this thing."

"All right."

"And, uh, I think I had it backwards," Sam admitted. 

"What?"

"I thought demonic forces were decimating opposing witches, but Andrew Hickles? He was one of the witches that was pulling demons out of Hell through Purgatory."

Dodge replied stiffly, "I take it that's not a metaphor."

"No," Sam said. "It's... a supernatural loophole."

"So you think demonically charged witches are being killed off by some alternative sect?" she asked. 

"Yeah, and they're doing a damn good job. I mean, if Dean's dreams stopped because there were no more names, then whoever's behind this vendetta is basically stemming the tide."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I dunno, but I vote we find out before all of them are dead."

 

"Okay, right, thanks," Dean said. "Which ones?" Dean circled the two names Dodge mentioned: Rasheem Paquette and Sable Cuellar. "You got a beat on either of them?"

Castiel paced irritably.

"Okay, Dodge, Cas can zap us anywhere right now, if you get us a location, we'll go. If it'll get us answers," Dean said into his phone. "Sable Cuellar. That can't be a common name – "

"Do we have a location yet?" Cas asked.

Dean shook his head. He spoke to Cas, "Hold on, she's running – something technical sounding."

"Why are you on the phone with her and not Sam?" 

"She's the one who called," Dean said to Cas. He spoke into the phone, "Wait, what? Okay, great. Cas and I will check them out and call you back. Thanks, Dodge."

Dean hung up. "Dude, what's wrong?" he asked the angel.

"Normally you and Sam call each other," Cas replied stiffly. 

"Okay, and?"

Cas didn't respond. For a few moments, Dean remained in the dark. "Wait," he said. "You don't think – this, it's not a jealous thing is it?" Dean fumbled. 

Cas exhaled slowly. "You didn't trust her very much and now she's calling you. I find it – strange."

"Right, but strange why?"

Castiel did not respond.

"You were the one who told me I have to say things, Cas. Just say whatever it is. I can take it."

"You dated women for all of your adult life," the angel observed. "Maybe if I had a female vessel – "

"Stop, stop," Dean said. "Maybe nothing. It's not your vessel I'm interested in. I mean, it's there, and it's hot, but it's not what's important." Cas didn't seem to accept this. "I don't like Dodge. She's not my type, and she's already slept with Sam. That makes her like a Yeti to me."

"A Yeti?" Castiel asked curiously. "How – "

"It's a figure of speech," Dean explained. "Sometimes, people look different when they do things. Like, a hot chick will call the Impala a piece of junk. Suddenly, she's nothing to me. And every woman who has ever slept with Sam? Instantly less attractive."

"You're just placating me."

"No, that's the truth. Me and Dodge? Nothing to worry about. Okay?"

"Where is this witch?" the angel asked effectively changing topics.

"Dodge has four addresses. Three different Rasheem Paquettes could be our witch, and then exactly one Sable Cuellar. Ready to check'em out partner?" Dean asked. 

The angel took his hand, and with a flutter of wings they were gone.

 

Marie Acevedo waited, chopping at the bit. Dallas really wasn't her style, and her new partner was a by-the-book twerp who questioned her endlessly on Dodge's leads. "How did she know that?" or "Who are her informants?" were daily questions. Acevedo couldn't tell if he was her biggest fan or her worst enemy; either way, she disliked him. 

Dodge appeared, looking over the faces at the restaurant. Acevedo waved her over. 

"You look great," Acevedo said.

"Thanks, how are you?" 

"Working with a new Agent named David Freedman," she replied.

"Is he any good?" 

"He's not you," Acevedo replied. "And I need you on this one, Dodge. Whatever's going on... I don't have enough pieces to even guess."

Dodge nodded. "Unfortunately, I can say the same thing. From the evidence, the killer is targeting covens."

"Covens?"

"Groups of witches," Dodge explained. She hedged, "It's likely the killer believes that he has some kind of supernatural power that enables him to overpower and kill multiple people."

"Gotta say, given the state of the bodies, his belief is well-founded," Acevedo said. "You got anything that can give me a lead?"

"Nothing in the way of physical evidence?" Dodge asked, but it was rhetorical. "All I can tell you is this killer is also someone who is into the occult. Possibly someone who knew or had contact with all the victims."

"You mean, across states?"

Dodge shrugged. "Sorry, that's the best I can do – "

"You sure this is one person?"

"Honestly, I hadn't thought about it. You know what they say about a secret kept by three people."

"Only works when the other two are dead," Acevedo finished fondly. 

"You might get some traction with those coins," Dodge continued. 

"Coins?"

"The ones you found in that bag of horrors, as you called it."

"Right – "

"They're rare. Ancient Akkadian, Ancient Celtic, and Roman Cyrillic, fifteenth century," Dodge said, reciting the list Sam gave her. "Just do me a favor."

"Name it."

"Be careful. This person is the kind of crazy that a badge just doesn't stop."

"Don't worry about that," Acevedo replied. "I'm not alone, and with eighteen bodies, we're looking at several more agents on this case."

Dodge nodded. 

"How are you?"

"I, uh, hate being sick," Dodge replied. "I've got a good friend looking out for me."

"Friend?" Acevedo repeated. "Your last 'friend' moved in with you – "

"Yeah, he's that kind of friend. His family's been helping me out. It's kinda weird."

"Well, let me buy you diner," Acevedo said lightly. "And you're gonna tell me all about him."

 

Sable Cuellar's body was headless and cold. Not just headless, though. Her head had been exploded by spell work of some kind.

"She was a witch," Cas replied mildly. "I can sense it. And I can smell sulfur."

"Damn," Dean mumbled. "It's been a long time since we had to check for sulfur."

The only Rasheem Paquette with an Ashwood Altar in his house had been impaled with several dozen heavy-duty nails. He had clearly been dead for days; the smell alone made that clear. Dean inspected the room, but he couldn't find any trace of a hex bag. 

"I don't think this was a spell," the angel said.

"Seriously? The dude is a pincushion."

"Torture," Cas observed. "All the pins are at powerful chakra points in the body. A witch well-versed in spells and body works could have tortured him for days."

"Yeah, but why?" Dean asked. "You sense any EMF or sulfur?"

"No," the angel replied. "Demons were not responsible. At least, not directly."

Something in Castiel's expression made Dean feel nervous.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Dean said.

"You're right. Someone's coming," Cas said. He wrapped his entire body about his hunter before teleporting away.


	5. Though He Owns All Fortunes

**Along the Utah/California Border**. Castiel rode shotgun in the Impala, stiff as a rock. All his concentration remained invested in his angelic feelers, or whatever they were. 

"Cas," Dean said. "You gotta check in with me here. You're wigging me out."

"I can sense Lucifer," Cas whispered. "I can't tell if he's following us. We might have to abandon the car."

"Baby?" Dean asked. "No way."

"It may be the only way to protect the location of the bunker. You've stored the car before."

"Extreme circumstances."

"Satan is following is. That is an extreme circumstance," the angel said loudly. "Please. The car has some protection afforded to it. We can store it on the west coast, and then teleport home."

"No way, this car has enough crap in it to give whatever's tracking us a leg up. We protect our rides like our home, Cas, because it's worth protecting."

"Very well, but that may require us to drive much farther than originally anticipated."

"That's fine," Dean replied.

 

Sam drove as Dodge sat asleep in the passenger seat. Part of him was relieved that they agreed to drive through the night. After what Dodge had said, Sam didn't know if it would be presumptuous to get a single-bed motel room for them both. 

Mostly, he just didn't understand it. He'd dated hot-and-cold women before, but those relationships had been casual. They didn't involve long conversation about lost loved ones. His time with Dodge had been had depth, warmth. 

But then again, as Dean would tell him, he never was a good judge of character when it came to women. Maybe Dodge didn't want to commit, or maybe she just didn't want to commit to Sam. Could he blame her?

Faint echoes of Jessica speaking rang in his ear. "Things are never gonna change with you. Ever." No, that wasn't Jess; Lucifer had pretended to be her to manipulate Sam while he slept. "Because it had to be you, Sam. It always had to be you," Lucifer had said to him. 

Sam felt a shiver up his spine. For a moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of a man with damaged skin on the side of the road, the man who was once known as Nick. 

"No," Sam said out loud to himself. "We burned Nick's bones. It can't be him." He put Lucifer out of his mind.

 

Due to Castiel's required detour, Dodge and Sam returned to the bunker a full day before Dean and the angel. Kevin was cagey and distant, and Sam felt like the last three days had rung all the happiness out of his life. The general atmosphere of the Men of Letter's war room was glum and heavy. 

"Woah," Dean said as he came in with Cas. "Contain your excitement, guys, we're home."

"You guys find anything?" Sam asked.

"We were just detouring," Dean said. "Told you, both those witches were dead. Days or weeks dead by the looks of it."

"Sorry," Castiel added.

"So what was going on?" Kevin asked.

"Witches killing witches," Sam said. "And, as of right now, we don't know why, or what side they're on, or who killed them."

Everyone avoided asking Kevin about the tablet, and he was grateful for that. But he needed to tell them, and everyone was here now – 

"The Children of Eve Tablet," Kevin said. "I – found something."

Silence. Kevin licked his lips and pushed ahead. "The addendum on the tablet. It's – uh, about a secret that Eve uncovered. She died because she learned of it. I know what the secret is now."

"What is it?" Castiel asked.

"When the first-fallen demons rose up, they valued two things: their purity and their power. But to produce new demons, they had to dilute that bloodline, which the Demon Tablet expands upon. But there was one demon, Sitri, a Prince of Hell, he mixed his bloodline not with humans, but with the descendants of Eve."

"You mean, like those whacked out hellhound hybrids?" Dean asked. "Demonic-monster hybrids?"

"Actually, it was just one hybrid. The other demons thought the Children of Eve were inherently weak, since she created monstrosity from the human soul. So, it says, 'After Sitri had one such daughter, the powers of Hell forbade him any more offspring from the Wells of Eve. His firstborn lived as a servant, the Steed of Hell.' It goes on to say that she was forbidden from rising in the Hell Hierarchy or whatever, though her powers were immense," Kevin completed lamely. 

"Didn't mention a name?" Sam asked. "Did it?"

"The Prophet has spoken," Cas said. "The Steed of Hell. Dean, we've met her before. Her name is Therion."

"Therion?" Dean repeated. He remembered the demon they met when trying to find Metatron. At the time, she was working with a Leviathan. "That green-eyed bitch with the disappearing, creepy spider legs?" The vivid image made Dean's skin crawl. 

"Yes," Castiel replied.

"If she was shunned, why would they pull her out of Hell? It's not exactly easy," Sam pointed out.

Cas shook his head. "There was never a need to pull her out of Hell."

"I locked the Gates," Sam replied. "Every demon on Earth was blasted into – "

"She's not a demon," Kevin interrupted. "Not a pure demon, anyway. She's half pure-demon, half pure-monster."

"Which makes her immune to exorcism as well as the Gates of both Purgatory and Hell," Cas said quietly. "Her lineage means she belongs nowhere, and that has given her the advantage of invisibility until now."

"So, the two sides of evil here," Dodge began. "One of them is this Therion?"

"Therion is going up against a much-weakened Lucifer," Castiel said. 

"Good or bad?" Dodge asked.

"Doesn't matter," Sam explained. "If she kills Lucifer, or locks him away somewhere, it'll be bad. If Lucifer kills her or locks her away, it'll be bad."

"Here's hoping they kill each other," Dean said, raising his beer bottle to the room. 

His false cheer did not raise anyone's spirits. The Men of Letter's secret bunker remained sedate and solemn.


End file.
